"Go away, Little Girl." He muttered. It was what he always did. He pushed people away, or forced them to leave him alone. But no matter how hard she pushed, she never left him. It confused him, and made her what could be qualified as 'interesting'.

"Don't call me that!" she cried, exasperated. He knew it infuriated her. It was the reason he did it. In other circumstances, he would have been amused by the display; a petite, young teenager, red in the face, screaming at him in his own home. His own room. But these weren't the usual circumstances.

He sighed and backed himself against the headboard, looking her straight in the eye. His molten gold eyes stared into her mossy green ones. Tears were threatening to pour, as she took a sharp intake of breath once he looked at her. Her usually curled, copper hair, was now much darker and frizzier. It complemented her personality much better. Her rose coloured lips, were pressed into a thin line and they seemed to almost disappear as she became more frustrated.

"You can't stay." He parted his gaze from her and turned it to the stone ceiling, "You don't know about real pain." He closed his eyes as he said this, his deep voice going even deeper as he felt all the scars on his body blaze under his skin.

"Yes I do!" Her scream caught his attention. It always did. He opened his eyes and glanced at her, her face was scrunched up. "Oh?" He lifted an eyebrow at her, daring her to say it once more.

"I love you! That's already painful enough!" She still looked like a child to him, no matter what she said or what they did, she would always be an innocent little girl to him. And she hated it.

"Stop saying that." He stated, his tone indicating superiority that he didn't feel. Not anymore.

"But it's true." She whispered, her face going from outrage to despair. No matter how many times she told him she loved him, he would never accept it.

"No, it's not!" He shouted suddenly, making her jump. "It's not," His volume decreased but he was still full of anger. "You're too young. You don't know what love is!" His voice became softer as her face became worse.

"I do, I do, I do!" she squealed, once again, making her seem childish. "I love you. Why aren't I enough?" She let the tear slip down her cheek. She tried to blink away the rest of her tears, but they poured down her cheeks like rain down a windowsill.

He felt his heart wrench. Silent crying was so much worse than loud crying. When tears were silent, they indicated sadness and despair, and seemed too morbid. Silent tears were the tears of someone in true pain. He hated seeing any kind of pain pressed on her. Even though he was the one who made her tears spill, he despised the sight of them.

He quickly edged to the side of the bed. She fell into his arms and pressed her head into his chest, her hands grabbing onto his flesh as he buried his head into the crook of her neck and his arms wrapped around her thin waist. They fit into each other like a missing puzzle piece.

He felt it inside him. The sense of completion when he held her, the feeling of warmth when he kissed her, the feeling of dread when he felt the scars on her wrists. He knew it. And he hated it.

He hated loving her. He hated it with a passion, but he loved her just as much.

So, they held each other as they cried into each other's arms. Her mossy eyes looked into his golden ones as their lips touched in a passionate kiss. It was a kiss of sadness. A way to say 'sorry' without saying the words.

For Jace, the kiss meant 'I love you'. They always did. Every single time he touched her, kissed her, saw her, he meant the words.

She knew. She knew he loved her, it was clearer than the ocean.

But he still didn't utter the words. He didn't want to make them real. Or rather, more real than they already were. Because as his father always said, "To love is to destroy and to be loved is to be the one destroyed." Jace would usually listen to his father, but he could recognize that Valentine was an expert in destruction, so his words were burnt into his brain.

But the thing about Clary, that little spark that she had in her. The fire between them burnt so bright, it was inextinguishable.

The love that Clary gave to Jace made him want to be destroyed.

What neither of them knew, was that it was too late.

They had already destroyed themselves.